


sometimes couches lead to love

by itsmylifekay



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Based on a Tumblr Post, Dissociation, M/M, PTSD, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 12:43:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13998588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: Based on this post from Tumblr: my brother just called me from the toilet??“em this gonna be weird but i just sat down on the toilet and then james called and hes on the doorstep. could you let him in? beware, he’s dressed as freddie mercury,”its 2amA Chuck and Raleigh meet-cute with probably too much angst to actually be called a meet-cute.





	sometimes couches lead to love

**Author's Note:**

> well. this happened.

 

Chuck’s sitting at his desk, elbow deep in what he hopes to one day be a champion winning fight bot but for now is a fucking  _ useless  _ piece of scrap, when his phone goes off. Mako’s name comes up on the screen and he considers ignoring it, knows it’s probably something along the lines of “You know it can’t hear you, right?” or “I will kill you so no one can find the body.” But then he remembers that Mako is probably quite capable of carrying out that last one and it is pretty damn late, so he taps at the screen and prepares to deflect with promises of five more minutes. (Like she’s ever believed that before.)

But no scolding comes. Instead there’s an awkward pause before Marko clears her throat. “Chuck,” she starts slowly. “I assume you’re working on your robot?”

“Nah, yeah, still isn’t working right.” He pokes at some of the wiring and glares, ready to throw a screwdriver at the wall. “Think those bastards from the parts shop are trying to slip shit by me. Want something done right, you’ve go to do it yourself.”

Mako hums noncommittally under her breath. “Well then, it’s probably time for you to take a break. Could you get the door for me?”

“The door?” All thoughts of adding another hole to the wall vanish. “What’s that about? It’s fucking two in the morning.”

“I’m aware of what time it is, Hansen.”

The tone and use of last name makes him bite back a response. The last thing he needs is to start something with his roommate/sister. Life would suck at the apartment, and he’d have both their dads on his ass.

“My friend Raleigh just called and he’s at the door, but I am currently indisposed. Could you please let him in and have him wait in the living room?”

“Indisposed? You that worried about this bloke seeing you in your pajamas? Got a crush on him or something?” Because of course wouldn’t that just be fitting. Mako gets a boyfriend and Chuck is left looking for a new place and another person who’ll put up with his shit.

There’s a very heavy pause where Chuck swears he can hear Mako’s fingers tightening around the phone. “I’m in the bath, Chuck. Now get the door and let him in or I’ll come drip all over your electronics and leave you scarred for life.”

The call ends and Chuck starts down at the screen, not evening moving time to shut it off before a message pops up.

**He will look like a drowned puppy.** **  
** **Do not say anything mean or I will hurt you.**

Chuck squints at that for a moment before heaving himself up and stalking towards the door. He wants to know who the hell this guy is, showing up at people’s doors in the middle of the fucking night. If Mako thinks he’s worth protecting he can’t be that bad, but Chuck is far from impressed so far. Max is dancing excitedly around his feet, knows something is happening and can probably smell whoever’s waiting in the hall.

He flings open the door without even attempting to hide the annoyance on his face and immediately regrets it when he sees the pathetic figure on the other side. Drowned puppy had been surprisingly accurate. Poor bloke looks like he’d gone for a few laps in a retention pond before showing up at their door. There’s a fucking  _ puddle _ at his feet.

Chuck wonders how long he’s been standing there and if any of their neighbors called the police.

Probably not. They probably expect this weird shit out of them at this point.

“Um, hey,” the bloke’s voice is low and quiet and does things to Chuck’s insides. His eyes glance down to Max butting against his shins before looking back at Chuck. “I’m Mako’s friend, Raleigh.”

“Kinda already guessed that, mate.” He steps back from the door but puts a hand up to stop the sodden mess of a man from following. “I’m gonna get you a towel first. Keep the water damage relegated to the hall.”

He gets narrowed eyes in response but the bloke-  _ Ra _ leigh- doesn’t otherwise move an inch. Chuck comes back moments later and throws a towel at the guy’s head, grumbling something about a change of clothes before disappearing into his room. When he returns, Raleigh’s taken off his shoes and jacket and left them in the hall, too busy running the towel through his hair to notice Chuck standing there with his jaw nearly to the floor. 

Because  _ holy shit.  _ The bastard’s wearing a paper thin henley that leaves nothing to the imagination, muscles clearly defined beneath the sopping fabric. He clears his throat more to get his own head screwed back on straight, but it serves the purpose of drawing Raleigh’s attention as well. He holds up the clothes.

“Not sure how long you’re here for, but thought you might wanna change.”

Raleigh drops the towel over one shoulder and takes the offered sweats and well-used army tee from Chuck’s hands, balancing them on the back of a nearby chair before tugging the henley over his head. Chuck nearly chokes on his tongue.

So much better without the clothes.

So much better.

There’s a shit ton of scars all over his left side and Chuck can’t help but wonder how far down they go...is tempted to keep watching and find out until he comes back to his senses and does a quick about face, heading straight for the bathroom in the back of the apartment and knocking.

He hears a faint splash and then Mako’s voice through the door, “Please tell me neither of you is dead.”

“Oi, we’re fucking fine, give me some credit.” Chuck thunks his head against the wood. “But damn, poor bastard really does look like a drowned puppy. Should I get him set up on the couch? Is he staying over?”

Mako hums thoughtfully for a moment, “Why don’t you ask him? I haven’t heard why he’s here yet, but he’s always welcome to stay.”

Back in the entryway, Chuck nearly trips over his own feet when he sees Raleigh crouched down trying to mop up some of the mess he’d made with his henley, doing nothing but smearing water around but damn if the position didn’t make his ass look amazing. He must’ve made some kind of noise because Raleigh turns and Chuck suddenly has to pretend that he’s been looking anywhere except the other man’s ass.

He doesn’t think he’s entirely successful based on the smirk and raised eyebrow he gets in return, grin only getting bigger as Chuck can’t help but do a full body sweep of such a fucking gorgeous piece of work wearing his clothes. The bloke’s stacked, but he still can’t quite fill out all the fabric, body much leaner compared to Chuck’s own bulk.

In fact, upon further inspection, he looks a little  _ too  _ lean. Like he’s not been getting enough to eat.

“So you crashing on the couch tonight or what, Ray?”

Eyes narrow and the grin disappears. “It’s Raleigh.”

“You wanna hear that name in my accent, find someone else.” He grins at the pinched expression that comes over Raleigh’s face. “Now, do I need to go get some extra blankets or what? It’s ass o’clock in the morning and if any of us are gonna get any sleep might as well get started.”

Raleigh’s bare toes curl against the linoleum and his eyes sweep over to the living room, obviously taking in its not-very-lived-in appearance. (He and Mako are usually out or holed up in their rooms working, a lifestyle that reflects in the sorry state of their living space. If you can count a couch and a TV sitting on the floor as a living space.)

“If I won’t get in the way.”

“Won’t even know you’re here, mate.” Chuck grins. “Except my dog’s an early riser, so might have to wake up or risk suffocation by fur.”

“What a way to go,” Raleigh smiles again, a small, crooked thing that immediately lights up when Chuck hears Mako’s soft footsteps in the hall.

“Raleigh,” She says it like a question, comfort, and invitation all in one, passing Chuck to wrap the other man in a firm hug.

Raleigh’s arms go around her immediately and their foreheads touch, leaving Chuck standing their feeling like an intruder with a bitter taste in his mouth. He turns and heads quietly back to his bedroom and shuts the door.

Story of his life, honestly.

*********

And it literally becomes his life. Because suddenly it seems like it’s every other day that Mako tells him Raleigh’s going to be staying over. Sometimes he comes in the evening, other times it’s the fucking middle of the night again, but either way Chuck can’t help but feel something twist inside his chest every time he sees the bastard sleeping on their beat up couch.

He’s too hot for his own good.

And it doesn’t help that he’s a complete troll either, with enough of a stubborn streak to put up with Chuck’s shit and the sass to fire it right back. Chuck might still occasionally rub one off to the memory of Raleigh literally pinning him to the floor after a wrestling match for the remote. The bastard had played dirty.

And Chuck loved it.

God help him.

**********

Chuck knows he’s truly fucked when he travels back to their hometown for the holidays. They’re only going to be gone for a week and it’s not just the usual hatred of old neighbors trying to pat his cheeks and constant comments about what a man he’s grown into, just like his  _ father _ , that has him itching to be back in their modest apartment in the city.

He misses Raleigh.

He’s  _ worried _ about Raleigh.

It’s only a small comfort that Mako seems worried as well, checking on the sorry sod about fifty times before they leave to let him know when they’ll be getting back and that he has a spare key and to let himself in at anytime. She’d invited him along as well but the answer had been a solid no. (Chuck had breathed a silent sigh of relief at that, he did  _ not  _ need the ever watchful Stacker Pentecost to witness him pine after what was most likely Mako’s future-- if not current-- boyfriend.)

The entire thing still doesn’t escape Stacker’s notice though, as he comments a few times that Chuck looks like he wants to be there even less than usual. And that he’s checking his phone a suspicious number of times per hour.

He feels like an idiot and it doesn’t help that Mako smiles knowingly every time her father mentions it. You’d think she’d be more concerned that her brother-not-brother-lets just say brother to keep it easy-kind of brother was pining after her man.

Then the annual Christmas Eve party came around and the answer hit Chuck in the form of Mako and a mutual friend from technical school kissing under the mistletoe for way longer than was necessary. And with a flash of tongue that Chuck is still trying to convince himself he didn’t see.

He might’ve felt happy at the knowledge that Raleigh was, apparently, fair game. Except that meant that Raleigh was now  _ fair game.  _ If Chuck wanted him, he’d have to actually do something about it.

Fuck.

**********

Their first night back and Raleigh is over at their place, looking thinner than Chuck remembers and with an awkward jerk in his step that says he’s done something to hurt himself that he won’t admit to. Mako finally bullies him into taking a shower and going to bed and she and Chuck lock themselves in her room to confer.

“He needs to stay here until he is no longer hurting,” Mako says right off the bat. “He will argue, but we must make him.”

Chuck holds up his hands.” Oi, no arguments here.”

And so begins the best and worst two weeks of Chuck’s life. Through some form of black magic, Mako convinces Raleigh to stay and sleep on their couch and eat their food. He sometimes leaves for a few hours, but always comes back to set up camp on that ratty old couch for the night. He takes Max for walks with Chuck and tells terrible jokes. He showers and walks around with a towel slung around his hips when he forgets to bring underwear in with him. (That is an image burned into Chuck’s retinas for the rest of time.)

He hassles Chuck out of his room, makes him sit on the sofa and watch a crap TV before he gets too fed up and threatens to fall asleep right there or call the producers and tell them how shit everything was. Their thighs brush and on one horribly embarrassing occasion their hands fucking touch in the chip bowl. Chuck had to call on all his years of strict military upbringing to not jerk back and cover them both with food.

Raleigh’s eyes are an obnoxiously nice shade of blue.

And his habit of stealing Chuck’s old shirts straight out of the dryer is giving Chuck a complex. Because apparently lending clothes once means they’re fair game forever.

Two weeks.

That’s all it takes for him to fall completely, pathetically in love.

And when the door shuts behind Raleigh as he heads back to whatever place he calls his home, Chuck feels his heart constrict in his chest.

“Be careful,” Mako says, something entirely too mischievous in her eyes as she backs slowly towards her room. “Max might get jealous now that you’ve found another puppy to love.”

His face flushes red and she shuts her door with a quiet laugh.

“Oi!”

**********

Chuck’s alarm goes off at seven and he groans into his pillow, a millisecond from swatting the thing into the wall because it’s  _ Sunday  _ for fuck’s sake and when does he ever set an alarm for Sunday? Then he remembers Herc’s promise to bring Max back today (because he and his old man might not be on the best of terms, but he’s not so heartless as to withhold puppy cuddles when the need arises) and shoots up to get ready, throwing on jeans and an army standard tee before heading to the kitchen. His dad said he’d come around 7:30 and Chuck wants to be fully caffeinated before that awkward clusterfuck of a situation.

He’s pouring grounds into the machine when someone saying his name from the living room makes him jump and spill a good bit onto the counter. He curses and tries to salvage as much as he can, just now noticing the unfairly hot specimen currently crashing on the couch.

“Oi, the fuck mate.”

Raleigh watches him over the back of the couch. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

He looks distinctly un-sorry.

Chuck scoffs in his direction. “Didn’t fucking scare me, just too early for that shit. Need my coffee before seppos like you try and give me a heart attack.”

“Right,” Raleigh somehow manages to look even more unimpressed then disappears back behind the couch.

Chuck makes a bit of breakfast while the coffee finishes and Raleigh still hasn’t made another sound. He assumes the bloke had gotten in late and needs the extra sleep, shrugging it off and leaving a bit of coffee in the pot for whenever he does drag himself out of bed. He elects to go back to his room and drink his coffee there, tinkering with his bot some more before he hears their buzzer at exactly 7:30. Wouldn’t put it past Herc to stand there fucking staring at his watch until right when it turned.

Mako is moving around her room and Chuck calls out that he’s got it as he makes his way back to the door, flinging it open and crouching to catch the excited bundle of wrinkles and fur that comes barreling at him. Ear scratches are immediately in order.

He almost doesn’t hear the strangled sound from the couch, but the reaction from Herc is impossible to miss.

“Raleigh?” He sounds like he’s just seen a dead man brought back to life and Chuck freezes in place. He looks up to try and read his old man’s face, but Herc is already moving past him and into the living room.

Raleigh is on his feet, looking paler than Chuck remembers, his jaw twitching where he must be clenching his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

Chuck looks between the two of them. “The fuck is this, then? You know each other?”

“You’ll have to excuse my son,” Herc says, throwing Chuck a look. “Never did manage to teach him any manners.”

“Your son,” Raleigh echoes. He looks about five seconds from passing out.

Thankfully, Mako chooses that moment to make her entrance, pulling Herc into a hug and distracting him just long enough for Raleigh to pull his shit together. Max struggles in his grip and Chuck releases him to stand, watching as the little lug pads over to Raleigh and starts pawing at his pant leg.

Chuck turns his attention back to Herc. “Oi, you two know each other?”

“That’s right,” Herc nods and looks to where Raleigh’s crouched giving Max a good, firm petting. The dog is wriggling on the ground like a loon, soaking up the attention and looking absurdly happy in comparison to the strange tension in the room. “Me and the Beckets served together in Manilla a few years back.”

Raleigh stands and looks like he’s bracing himself for something. Max whines pitfully still sprawled out on the floor.

“I’m real sorry about your brother,” Herc says. “I was on another assignment at the time or I would’ve come to the funeral.”

Raleigh shrugs, looking absolutely gutted. “Wasn’t much of a funeral. Nothing to bury, really.”

Chuck feels like he’s been doused in ice water.

Raleigh fucking  _ Becket. _

All this time and he never knew a last name. Never even thought to ask, not even with all the evidence staring him in the face. The scars. The obvious military background.

The name  _ Raleigh.  _ How many of those you got running around?

Raleigh fucking Becket.

The Becket brothers. Famed heros in all the stories his dad told him. Got on the news for taking down some radical faction and then for everything going tits up. The older of the two had died a horrible, agonizing death and the younger dropped from the face of the earth. Well, looked like he was back. And half living in Chuck’s living room.

What the  _ fuck. _

He immediately looks to Mako and damn it if the look on her face doesn’t say she already knew all along.

“What’ve you been doing these days, son?”

It takes Chuck a moment to realize Herc isn’t talking to him and his mood sours further when he does.

Raleigh takes a breath and Mako steps back, moving towards Raleigh like she knows something is about to go down. 

“Construction.”

Chuck just doesn’t expect that she’s worried about  _ him. _

“What the fuck?” The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, shoulders tense and face hot as he takes in those words. “You quit the service to work  _ construction _ ?”

All of that training, all those years of assignments, blood, sweat, and tears. His fucking  _ brother.  _ And he gives it up just like that.

Chuck takes a step forward and Raleigh’s face changes, turns into something defensive and dangerous. “I don’t need to explain myself to you.”

“Like fucking hell you don’t!” Chuck sees red, doesn’t care a lick that Herc is yelling at him to stop and Mako is physically holding Becket back by the arm. “Me and a whole lot of others were out there risking our lives and you just  _ quit _ ! Fucking golden boy turned tail and ran, you know how bad that looked for us? Huh?”

He doesn’t even see the punch until it’s halfway to his face, barely has time to dodge so it just skims the side of his cheek and doesn’t fully connect. Still hurts like a bitch though.

He’s swinging in the next beat, aiming right for the bastard’s annoyingly disarming face when he sees something flicker in Raleigh’s eyes, go wide then completely empty. Dead. Chuck’s fist connects with his jaw and Raleigh’s head snaps to the side. He doesn’t even blink but before Chuck knows it there’s a fist slamming into the side of his face, then an uppercut that has him reeling back.

He hears Mako yell something and the sound of shattered glass and suddenly he finds himself in a headlock, dragged backwards as Herc curses up a blue streak above his head.

“The hell are you thinking?” The older man pushes him into the kitchen and jabs a finger at his chest. “You are  _ better _ than that.”

Anger flares up again and Chuck is just about to shoot something back when he hears Mako’s quiet voice drift in from the other room.

“Raleigh?” she asks. “Raleigh, can you hear me?”

There’s no response and Chuck feels guilt build up under his skin.

Fuck, why did he go and blow up like that?

Herc always said that anger would come back and bite him in the ass one day. Looks like now was the time.

He didn’t know why he’d just assumed the bloke had quit. From what he knew about Raleigh the person, he never would’ve run away. And from what he knew about Raleigh Becket from the news, he was lucky to be functioning and had most likely left with an honorable discharge. Chuck _should_ know better. After all, that’s how he got out as well.

In the other room, Mako takes a deep breath and starts, “It’s Sunday, April 5th. You’re at my apartment. You’re safe.” She repeats it again and again while Herc and Chuck stand in the kitchen, Herc with his arms crossed and Chuck with his head in his hands feeling like a fucking idiot.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore and stands. Herc gives him a look but Chuck shakes his head, admits he fucked up in the Hansen way and takes one step into the living room. He looks across the room and sees Raleigh standing perfectly still, staring into space. There’s pieces of broken glass on the ground and a picture frame hanging crookedly on the wall. Mako is holding Max back by the collar and still trying to talk to Raleigh, obviously unsure if she should approach him or if he’s still too far gone for that to be safe for either of them. 

Chuck swallows and feels like a part of his own soul as gone and left him seeing that blank look in Raleigh’s eyes. 

“It’s Sunday, April 5th. You’re at my apartment. You’re safe.”

He needs to fix this. Somehow, he needs to fix this. Even if it means another solid punch in the face from Raleigh, because he figures he kind of deserves that at this point.

After Mako’s next repetition ends he starts in with his own. 

“It’s Sunday, April 5th. You’re at my apartment. You’re safe.” Mako shoots him a look but he keeps going, moving closer to Raleigh with every word. “It’s Sunday, April 5th. You’re at my apartment. You’re safe.”

Once he’s within arms reach he switches to a different tactic. “Ray, I don’t know where you are right now, mate. But you’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you. I fucked up but I won’t do it again, so get your ass back here.”

Nothing. Same thousand-yard stare.

“Alright, Ray,” he glances in Mako’s direction and takes the full brunt of her narrowed eyes before turning back to the man in front of him. “I’m gonna touch you, my hand on your right arm, alright? Gonna try to bring you back.”

He reaches for Raleigh’s arm, fingertips light on the skin near his elbow, smoothing down until he can wrap his palm around a muscled forearm. Muscles twitch lightly beneath his hand but Raleigh doesn’t try to move away or punch him, so Chuck pushes on.

“Do you feel that, Ray? I want you to focus on what’s happening here, right now. You’re safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

He lifts his other hand and very cautiously puts it behind Becket’s left shoulder, steadying him while Chuck takes that last step right into his personal space. He hears a hitch in Raleigh’s breathing and keeps the pressure from his hands firm as he pulls Raleigh’s right arm between both of their chests and uses his other hand to gently push the man’s forehead down against his shoulder.

He takes an exaggerated breath in.

“C’mon, Ray. Max is waiting for you to scratch his ears again.”

The dog lets out an excited woof at his name and Raleigh’s muscles give another twitch. Chuck glances over at Mako and in silent agreement she releases Max to come jump and trip over both of their feet.

Chuck turns and presses his forehead to the top of Raleigh’s head, keeping his voice low so only they can hear. “Look, mate. I fucked up. But I promise I’m not ever gonna hurt you again. Won’t let anyone else either.” He tightens his hold and says it again. “Not gonna let anything hurt you.”

He keeps murmuring anything that comes to mind, reassurances and promises and constant reminders that he’s safe.

Minutes pass and he feels more than hears Raleigh’s breathing start to line up with his own, muscles shift and finally eyelashes flutter against his neck, shirt muffling a groan as Raleigh comes back to himself.

Unsure of where they stand, Chuck moves to let go but Raleigh’s hands latch on like vices, refusing to let him pull away as he takes a few more deep breaths and slowly picks his head up and blinks out into the room. Then he looks down at their feet where Max is still wriggling and whining to be pet.

Max lets out a plaintive bark when he notices the attention.

After a moment, Raleigh makes to sit but doesn’t let go of Chuck, just brings them both down in an awkward tangle of limbs that Chuck is too dazed to do anything about, lets Raleigh rearrange things however he likes until they’re sitting with Max in Raleigh's lap and Raleigh pretty much in  _ Chuck’s _ lap.

Mako comes and crouches beside them, joining Raleigh in petting Max’s head before quietly asking, “Raleigh?”

“Yeah, I know,” he sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. “It’s Sunday, April 5th. I’m at your apartment. I’m safe.” He looks up to meet her eyes. “And I’m sorry. I didn’t mean t--”

“No, Raleigh,” she stops him gently. “You do not need to be sorry.”

Chuck gets the implication and clears his throat to add, “Not your fault, mate. Shouldn’t have gone at you the way I did.”

Raleigh runs a hand across one of Max’s floppy ears. “Didn’t say anything I haven’t asked myself a thousand times.”

And that, somehow, guts Chuck more than anything else. He thunks his forehead against the back of Raleigh’s neck. “You did the best you could, mate. Don’t see how you’d do anything else.” He feels Raleigh take a breath and cuts him off before he even starts. “And before you argue, know that nothing's gonna change my mind. So just pet Max and spare us all the trouble.”

Raleigh huffs out a laugh and elbows Chuck lightly in the stomach, making no move to otherwise get up or extricate himself from Chuck’s lap. Mako is taking it all in stride but Herc is staring gobsmacked an awkward two yards away. Eventually, he mutters something about it being too goddamn early for this shit, followed by the sound of the coffee maker starting up again. Mako stands and says she’ll see if they have anything around for breakfast.

And Chuck is still on the ground. With Raleigh apparently quite comfortably half leaned against Chuck’s chest, more and more weight leaning into him until Chuck wonders if the bloke’s gone and fallen asleep. When his hand finally stops moving long enough for Max to notice, the dogs huffs and gives an indigent shake, collar clattering loudly in the quiet room.

Raleigh jerks back awake and slowly sits up and turns to look at Chuck. Both his eyebrows lift, as if to say “Well? What’re you going to do about it?”

Chuck’s answer: nothing. As far as he’s concerned Raleigh can stay as long as he’d goddamn like.

Raleigh must read it in the silent flush on his face because he just smirks and stands, offers Chuck a hand that he takes without question. They’re suddenly standing much closer than Chuck had expected and with all the excitement he finally notices that Raleigh is wearing one of his shirts. Again.

“Never getting those back, am I?”

Raleigh looks down to match his gaze then smirks and catches his eyes again, “Do you want them back?”

“No,” Chuck shrugs and smooths one hand from collar to shoulder and down Raleigh’s left bicep, fingers skimming over scars. “Reckon it looks better on you.”

Raleigh flexes under his hand and Chuck swats him, grumbling  _ fucking show off  _ until Raleigh grabs his hand and threads their fingers together.

A camera clicks from the kitchen and Mako is unrepentant as she takes a few more. “I’m glad you two finally figured it out.”

“Had to have a goddamn fist fight to get there,” Herc grumbles from the stove.

Chuck feels like his face might physically be on fire.

Raleigh just laughs.

And fuck if he doesn’t want to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.

 

(He does.)

  
  



End file.
